


do you still remember feeling young

by bellawritess



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Brotherly Love, Fix-It of Sorts, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Louis Tomlinson-centric, M/M, Minor Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, OT5 Friendship (One Direction), Platonic Relationships, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, as usual niall is just vibing im sorry niall, brief malum but i didn't want to clog the malum tag with it, influenced by recent events, is this fic just a love letter to heartbreak weather?, one direction finally get a group chat, something of a reaction fic, thats a secret ill never tell, the larry is there but not central, zayn is going to be a dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24401680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: Louis wonders where his life went wrong that all the people he loves have forgotten the way his voice sounds.(Or: Zayn's going to be a dad.)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson (past), Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan & Liam Payne & Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan & Zayn Malik & Liam Payne & Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 95





	do you still remember feeling young

**Author's Note:**

> not kidding when i say this fic grabbed me by the throat and physically forced me to write it....anyway. friendship is very important to me. specifically zayn and louis's friendship. and their whole thing is upsetting. some of this canon may be inaccurate. please forgive me, i am not brushed up on my 1d history very much, but i did my best, so suspend disbelief when you must lmao
> 
> title from fearless by louis tomlinson possibly my favorite song off walls like holy fuck what a raw, ruthless, sincere song
> 
> tw for alcohol

It’s a weird enough day even  _ before _ Harry calls him.

Louis sleeps in, which he feels like he hasn’t done in forever. They’d been up last night in the group chat (their first group chat ever and they’re not even in the band anymore — Louis can appreciate the irony) discussing reunion plans, and how would they throw people off the scent, especially with  _ Liam _ and his  _ big fat mouth _ . Niall had offered to say something on Instagram Live, which could work, since people always trust Niall. Personally, Louis thinks Liam’s already let the cat out of the bag, but if Niall can work in a bit of damage control, he may as well.

So anyway, Louis wakes up at noon and immediately feels thrown off. He has a missed call from his manager, but then there’s a text just underneath with a link to a news article. Louis opens it to read about James Corden getting eye surgery. He shoots off a text to James with well wishes. Then he gets out of bed and goes to make breakfast — or lunch — and realizes he’s out of eggs, which means he can’t have an omelet like he’d wanted, so he orders some more groceries online and by the time he’s managed to eat and sit down at his desk, it’s 1pm and Louis’s gotten fuck all done.

And then his phone rings. Louis glances at the screen, expecting his manager, or maybe even James, but it’s neither.

For a moment, Louis is tempted not to answer. Then he does anyway, because he knows himself too well.

“Hello?” He wonders briefly if this is some superfan’s idea of a crazy joke. Maybe Harry’s phone has been stolen.

“Louis?” Nope. It’s actually him. It’s actually Harry Styles. Louis’s heart skips several beats, and then tumbles out of his chest altogether.

“Yeah, it’s me.” He scrubs his face. “Why are you calling?”  _ Why now? Why ring me when we have a group chat? Why call when you could text? Why make it seem like we’re the type of friends who call each other, when we haven’t been for ages and might never be again? _

Harry starts a sentence. His voice is a little strangled over the news tripping off his tongue. Louis thinks he hears  _ Zayn _ but that can’t be right. He says, “Sorry, mate, got a bit garbled there. Thought you said Zayn’s having a kid.”

Harry exhales shakily, like Louis hasn’t heard since — well — since. “Yeah,” he manages. “That’s because it’s what I said. Zayn’s having a kid. A girl, we think.”

“We?” Louis says sharply.

“The internet, the media, the general population,” Harry says, and Louis can just  _ see _ the handwave. “Um, I just wanted to warn you. Just in case you hadn’t seen it by now.”

There’s no way to politely tell Harry that Louis has Zayn’s name blocked on his browser. It’s not even an act of hate, anymore; they’re both grown men (or so they’ve been led to believe). It’s mostly just to avoid feeling the ache in his chest from seeing Zayn’s name and knowing they had something that’s broken beyond repair now.

* * *

_ “So I know you’re all quite young, but most of you have got siblings, Louis, Zayn, I know you’ve both got younger ones, and some people are interested to know if you’d ever feel like putting those skills to work as a dad?” the interviewer asks. There’s a bright smile pasted on her face. Louis feels bad for her. _

_ “Bit young for that, aren’t we,” he says, trying not to sound like he’s blaming her for asking.  _

_ “Yeah, but down the line, dunno, maybe eight or ten years, yeah. I mean, Liam’s the dad of the band but I reckon I’d smash it as a dad ‘cause I already feel like Harry’s mum, if I’m honest,” Zayn answers. Harry reaches across Louis to smack Zayn in the chest. Zayn laughs. Liam laughs. Even the interviewer laughs, so Louis laughs with them. _

_ Louis has never been more grateful that they’re not traveling that night. He collapses into his bed, Zayn trailing behind him and collapsing into the other bed with exactly the same form. Zayn mumbles a half-hearted, “‘Night, Lou,” which means Louis has about nineteen seconds before Zayn loses consciousness entirely. _

_ “Zayn?” _

_ “What.” _

_ “About kids,” Louis says. “Like, the interview earlier. You meant that?” _

_ Zayn turns his head so that he’s facing Louis. “S’pose so. I mean, we’ll have kids eventually, ey? I dunno. Always liked kids. Fancied having some. But obviously not now.” _

_ “Obviously,” Louis says, partly to himself. He thinks for a moment. “I reckon I wouldn’t mind kids either. Coupla little Tommos or summat.” _

_ “Oh, God,” Zayn groans jokingly, a smile playing at his lips. “Save our souls. I regret giving you the idea.” _

_ “Shut up,” Louis retorts. He takes a deep inhale and feels so tired he nearly falls asleep right then and there. “Hey, Zayn?” _

_ “Bloody hell, Louis, I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.” _

_ “D’you wanna be godparents, or uncles, or that? For each other’s kids, I mean?” _

_ Zayn cracks an eye open. “You think I trust you with baby Malik? Nice try.” _

_ “Oi,” Louis says, not offended, because Zayn is joking. Zayn loves him. _

_ “Yeah, alright,” he concedes. “I’ll be Uncle Malik. I’ll spoil your kids filthy.” _

_ “Uncle Tommo will bring all the best Christmas presents, I will,” he counters. _

_ “I’m too tired to beat that,” Zayn murmurs. “Christmas presents, doesn’t really get better than that, does it?” _

_ “No, it doesn’t,” Louis says proudly. But then he worries for a second, so he adds, “You’ll be a brilliant uncle, though. I know it.” _

_ “I’m only 19 now, though, so calm down a bit,” Zayn adds. “And if you talk to me again I’ll throw a pillow at you. I’m sleeping.” _

_ “Love you,” Louis says, grinning. “G’night.” _

_ Zayn flips him off. _

* * *

“Told you himself, did he?” Louis says, unable to help the way his voice fills with acid.

“Louis —”

“Tell him I say congrats.” He wants to hang up on Harry, but he’s never been able to.

“He didn’t tell me,” Harry says quietly. “He hasn’t even — we haven’t spoken in ages. I just, I didn’t want someone to bring it up in an interview and catch you off-guard. I figured you’d blocked his name from your timeline or something.”

Shit. Harry knows him too well. Surprise, surprise.

“Well, thanks,” Louis says under his breath.

“I think Liam’s been speaking with him a bit,” Harry tacks on hesitantly.

“Of course he has.” Liam was always the diplomat. Niall was too good-natured to ever need diplomacy skills, and Harry too charming, and Louis too mean and abrasive. But Liam had always been good with Zayn. 

Louis had been good with Zayn, until he wasn’t.

“Louis…”

“What?” It comes out sharp.

Harry sighs. “It’s nice to hear your voice, is all.”

Louis stutters to a halt. “Oh. Thanks.” He hesitates. “Yours too.”

“I think Liam’s trying to organize another group call,” Harry says delicately.

“Then I reckon I’ll see you there,” Louis says. “Look, I’ve gotta go, I’ve got another call coming in. Thanks for the warning.”

He pretends he’s hung up, but waits for Harry’s quiet “See you, then,” before he actually hits  _ end call. _

* * *

_ “Someone on Twitter said, ‘One Direction with kids, a thread about why they should have children immediately,’” Niall, the Twitter troll and general social media responder announces to the bus, for no apparent reason. A moment later, he adds, “Actually, these pictures are pretty cute. Liam, you’re right photogenic with kids.” _

_ “Damn right I am,” Liam says. _

_ “Let me see,” Harry says, making grabby hands for Niall’s phone. Niall passes it along, and Harry scrolls through the thread. _

_ “I like this one of Louis,” he says. _

_ “You have to like it,” Louis says, reaching for Harry’s wrist and pulling him over to his side of the couch. “I get you off every night.” _

_ “Not  _ every _ night,” Harry argues. “Sometimes I —”  _

_ “Gross! No sex talk on the tour bus,” Liam interjects loudly, for the millionth time this week. _

_ “Don’t talk about getting each other off while we’re talking about kids, mate, that’s just messed up,” Zayn says from his spot across the bus, scrolling also, presumably, through Twitter.  _

_ Fair enough. “Fine,” he says, and tugs on Harry’s arm until he caves, collapsing like a bundle of fluffy kitten into Louis’s lap. Well, partly. Harry’s shot up, and now he’s lanky and built and taller than Louis, so half of him goes on Louis’s lap and the other half shoves itself between Louis and Niall on the couch. _

_ “Oi," Niall complains. Harry remedies this by stretching his legs across Niall’s lap and laying his head in Louis’s. Neither of them complain. The unspoken rule goes that you don’t complain with Harry in your lap, full stop. _

_ With Harry in his lap, Louis can see the Twitter thread now. He reaches over Harry’s face to scroll through it, sees pictures of all of them with children, and Niall’s right, it is pretty adorable. They all look very natural. _

_ “Which of us’ll do it first, you reckon?” he asks absentmindedly. _

_ “Do what? Have kids?” Harry asks. _

_ “Won’t be Harry, he still  _ is  _ a kid,” Zayn says. Harry makes a noise of protest, and Louis strokes his hair until he quiets. _

_ “Won’t be me, either,” Niall says. “Won’t have kids ‘till I’m married and that’s a long way off at the rate I’m going now.” He laughs genially. _

_ “I bet it’ll be Liam,” Zayn says. “He’s just got the most parental energy. Everyone already calls him the dad of the band, like.” _

_ “I wouldn’t mind it,” Liam says pensively. “Not for a while, mind you. But I love kids, so I’d like to have them.” _

_ Louis’s wondering if any of them are actually thinking about this as a reality. He wonders if they realize how impossible it would be to have children while in the biggest boy band on the planet. They don’t even really have time for themselves, certainly not outside relationships, and most  _ definitely  _ not kids. _

_ “Think Liam and Zayn could have a kid, d’you reckon?” Louis asks Niall and Harry instead. “Mama Malik and Papa Payno?” _

_ Niall laughs brightly. “I’d pay to see that.” _

_ “For the low low price of a thousand pounds, you can pay to see it right now, on your phone,” Harry offers, holding Niall’s phone away from Niall. _

_ “Maybe it’ll be you two,” Niall says, instead of reaching for his phone. Louis blinks, like he’s missed something, but he hasn’t. “Harry and Louis, I mean. Not for a long time, but you know. I reckon you’d be fantastic parents. All of you.” He mulls over his words. “Well, maybe not Tommo, but if Harry steps up —” _

_ “Alright, Neil, see if we ever ask you to babysit,” Louis threatens, taking the phone out of Harry’s hands and chucking it at the offender. Niall ducks, hands over his face, chortling. _

* * *

__

Louis puts off checking the group chat or any social media. He doesn’t want to hear about Zayn’s kid. He opens up Twitter once, doesn’t even do anything, just sits there and stares at it, refreshes and refreshes his page as if waiting for some invisible signal to do...what? Frustrated, he shuts it off, leaves his phone on his desk, and goes outside to smoke.

It calms him, a little bit. The fresh air clears his mind. He sits out there for a long time, staring at the sky, trying and failing to have zero thoughts at all.

He wonders who the mother is. He hadn’t even thought to ask Harry.

He wonders if the rest of the boys know. If they knew earlier on. He wonders if Zayn told Liam or Niall personally, if he’d ever even planned to tell them before it got to the media, or if one day he’d just have shown up with a young version of himself and expected everyone to adjust. It’s not like he owes them, after all. 

He wonders if Zayn is doing well. If he’s happy. If he’s put on weight since the gaunt, skinny face he’d worn in the last of his days in the band.

It really has been years since he’s even properly looked at a photo of the man who used to be one of his best mates. That thought grips Louis like a vice and won’t let go until it feels like he’s choking on it.

He goes back inside and sits back at his computer. He might have caved and searched up “Zayn Malik baby” right then if his phone hadn’t gone off.

“Hello?” Louis answers, without really thinking about it, because not a lot of people have this number (and he hopes it will stay that way), so usually when someone calls, it’s for something he needs to know. Except for when it’s Harry. (Louis is kind of hoping it’s Harry again.)

“Louis!” Oh. It’s Liam.

“Hullo,” Louis says. He wants to sound cheerful, but he can’t.

“Just wondering if you’d been reading the chat, you’d not been responding and we were thinking about a four-way video call or something later on. Are you in?”

“Did Zayn tell you he’s having a kid?” Louis interrupts. There’s silence on the other end. “Liam."

“No,” Liam says. “But he texted me after it came out in the press. I didn’t want to say anything.”  _ I didn’t want to brag, _ maybe, or  _ I didn’t want to make it worse. _ With Louis, it can always go either way. So fair enough.

“I’m happy for him,” Louis says, unsure if that’s a lie or not but certain that Liam will be able to tell either way.

“Me too,” Liam says firmly. Then, in a lighter tone, “I reckon in a couple years his kid and Bear could be mates.” Louis knows what Liam isn’t saying.  _ Maybe Freddie, too. _

The worst, meanest, bitterest part of Louis wants to snap,  _ no chance. No chance my kid’s ever going to be friends with the kid of the man who tore everything apart. Who bitched at me like we hadn’t been best friends for five years.  _ But that’s the worst of Louis speaking, and Louis knows better than to heed it. “Maybe,” he cautiously agrees. “Payno, who’s the, the mum?”

“Gigi,” Liam says.

Oh. Of course. Louis thought they were kind of broken up, but it’s always weird with them.

“D’you know how far along…”

“Looks like four months,” Liam says. “Look, Louis — why don’t you just ring him? Ask him yourself?”

“I don’t have his number,” Louis says. That’s not the reason and they both know it.

“I have,” Liam says. “I’ll send it to you.”

“He wouldn’t want you to,” Louis says. That’s probably true, at least. “Don’t, Liam.”

Liam sighs. Louis can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright. But I think it’s about time you moved past this nonsense, and I’ve said it before but this time I really mean it. You’re a dad, for God’s sake, Louis. Be a role model and communicate. He’s going to be a dad, too. He’ll appreciate it.” Liam pauses. “Neither of you are the same person you used to be. You know that, right?”

Louis looks all around the room without focusing on anything, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t answered his phone. “I’ll be on the video call,” he says. “I’ll check the chat.”

Another deep sigh. “Right, then. I’ve gotta go.”

“See you.”

The call beeps an end. Louis throws his phone onto the desk and buries his face in his hands.

A minute later he gets a text from Liam.

**Liam Payne:** [contact: Zayn Malik US]

* * *

_ “...And Liam said he’s going to the pub tonight with some of his mates,” Zayn finishes. “That oughta be good.” _

_ “Liam drunk?” Louis says. “Hate to miss it. He’ll probably ring you a hundred times.” _

_ “Believe me, I know,” Zayn says. “I’m not looking for any more drunk texts from him, like. Every time.” _

_ “Is that Zayn?” Lottie shouts through Louis’s door. “Can I talk to him?” _

_ “Are you listening to my conversation?” Louis shouts back. _

_ “Is that Lottie?” Zayn says, sounding a thousand times more excited. _

_ “Alright, I see where your loyalties lie,” Louis says grumpily. _

_ “Shut up and put her on,” Zayn says. “She’s my favorite Tomlinson.” _

_ “You’re a prick,” Louis grumbles. “Lottie! Come in here, Zayn says he wants to say hello.” _

_ Lottie all but busts the door down and takes a running leap at Louis’s bed. On the screen, Zayn’s smile grows. _

_ “Zayn!” Lottie says eagerly. “Hullo, how are you? I’ve missed you. We’ve all missed having you lot around, but I especially missed you.” _

_ “I missed you too, babe,” Zayn says. Somehow when he talks to Louis’s sisters his voice sounds like the most genuine thing in the world. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? How are you?” _

_ “Right, I’ll just go, then, shall I?” Louis says petulantly, passing his phone off to Lottie. _

_ “Bye,” Zayn and Lottie chorus. _

_ “See if I don’t call Liam and tell him you asked to hear about all his problems,” Louis retorts. _

_ He doesn’t mind it, though, and he’s pretty sure they both know that. Zayn certainly does. Zayn is Lottie’s favorite member of One Direction and she has zero qualms about letting everyone know it. Even though two of the members are her brother and her brother’s boyfriend, there’s something about Zayn that is so incredibly charming. Louis doesn’t blame her. Sometimes Zayn is his favorite, too. _

_ “I got a new t-shirt yesterday! Louis took me to the shops,” Lottie enthuses as Louis edges out the door to his own room. He makes his way to the sitting room and turns on the telly while he waits for Lottie to bring his phone back. Hopefully they won’t be too long; Louis wants to ring Harry. It’s been two days since their break started, and that’s already too many. He’s half a mind to just take the car up to Cheshire, surprise him at the bakery. _

_ The only thing playing are reruns, so Louis watches The Great British Bake-Off for a few minutes until Lottie trots out and obediently returns Louis’s phone.  _

_ "Didn’t tell him any secrets of mine, did you?” Louis asks. Lottie giggles and scurries off to go do something else. _

_ “She did, actually. I’ve got so much dirt on you now, Tommo, you wouldn’t believe.” _

_ Louis shakes his head at the grinning face of Zayn on his phone. “I think she fancies you.” _

_ “She better. I’m a handsome lad.” _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ They chat for a little while longer, and Louis keeps thinking about how Zayn’s voice had softened for Lottie, the way his eyes always seem so sincere. If Louis were a teenage girl, he would trust Zayn immediately. It’s like his entire face and demeanor was sculpted to soothe the excitable nerves of young ladies. _

_ “Alright, it’s nearly tea,” Zayn says. “We’ll catch up later, yeah?” _

_ “Yeah, ‘course,” Louis says. “Bye.” _

_ “Later.” Zayn hangs up, and after about ten seconds, Louis realizes he already misses his voice. _

* * *

This is the first video call they’ve managed to cobble together with the four of them — last time, Harry had claimed to be busy with other stuff. Louis doesn’t know what, exactly, Harry could possibly be up to, now they’re all fully stuck at home, but he knows it’s no longer his business. He’s tired of it no longer being his business. He misses when it was.

Harry is the last to join. His hair is so short now. It’s not like Louis hasn’t seen pictures of Harry since — well — since, not like he doesn’t get sent hundreds of pictures of Harry on Twitter every day from fans with the caption “do you miss him?” (yes) or “rate this look” or whatever else. But it’s been awhile since Louis’s seen Harry in real time, and he was almost hoping his hair would have grown long since the last photograph of him he’d seen. Louis hates the feeling that he doesn’t recognize Harry anymore, and maybe never will again.

“Hey, Harry!” Liam says brightly as soon as Harry’s face appears. 

“Harry,” Niall says, just as cheerful. “Great to see you, mate, it’s been too long.” 

“Alright, Niall, Liam,” Harry says, smiling. “Good to see you all. Hi, Louis.”

“Hello,” Louis says. He really doesn’t want to sound stiff and awkward. The last thing he wants is for the first One Direction reunion call in... _ ever _ to be ruined by his and Harry’s...whole thing. So he forces a smile. “You look well.”

“You too,” Harry says, voice a little soft. He clears his throat. “You all look well. Niall! Brilliant record!”

“Yeah, Niall, you’ve really smashed it with this one,” Liam says. Louis can hear the love in his voice. “It sounds just like you, like, all the music you always wanted to make.”

“What they said,” Louis says. “Well done, Neil. Really happy for you.”

Niall’s grinning like a maniac. His hair is brunet and he’s five years older and he’s filled out and grown up and his accent’s thicker than ever, but that smile is exactly the same as it was on X-Factor. 

“Thanks,” Niall says. “I’m really proud of it, worked me arse off. Means a lot that you all listened to it, anyway.”

They all have solo records out, now. Harry and Niall have two. Louis listened to  _ Fine Line  _ once, just in case anyone asked him about it, and somehow didn't enjoy it, even though it ripped a hole in his chest. It had felt like...like Harry was hiding under the layers of instruments and backup singers and extra effects. Overproduced, overdone. But maybe that's who Harry is now. Louis couldn't stand the way  _ Fine Line  _ made him feel, so he'd never gone back to it.

He loves  _ Heartbreak Weather _ , though. And Liam is right. It does sound just like Niall. It sounds like what One Direction could have been, if Niall had been in charge instead of Simon. Maybe that’s why Louis loves it.

* * *

_ “I’ve come up with a bit of a song, and I think this one’s a winner,” Niall announces, entering their hotel room with his guitar and ignoring Zayn’s groan of “we should’ve never given him a key” from where he’s attempting to be asleep under the duvet. _

_ “Niall, it’s midnight,” Louis says, although he doesn’t have much of a defense other than that. He’d still been awake, scrolling through his phone and liking Tweets in a sort of tired haze. May as well hear a bit of a song. _

_ “Yeah, Niall,” Zayn grouses, turning slightly and launching a pillow across the room. “Midnight.” The pillow hits the wall next to the door. Niall, already at the armchair by the window, chuckles. _

_ “Listen to it, you wankers. I don’t want to bring it into the studio unless you think it’s alright.” _

_ Niall’s never been nervous to bring something into the studio before. “Why not? You’ve never made anything so shit it couldn’t be fixed.” _

_ Niall looks away. “Think I’m writing with McFly tomorrow. I wanted to have some idea before I went in. It’s McFly, you know?” _

_ Shit, that’s right. Zayn and Liam are going off to do an interview, and Louis and Harry have got a different interview, and Niall is getting studio time by himself. With McFly. _

_ “Fuck,” Louis says, because he’s jealous. “Wait, where are Liam and Harry?” _

_ “I knocked at their door first and they told me to fuck off,” Niall says.  _

_ “Absolutely not. Get them in here.” _

_ “No,” Zayn moans, but it’s too late. Louis’s insistent. He pushes himself out of bed, leaves his room, and goes across the hall to the left to knock aggressively at the door of Liam and Harry’s room. _

_ “Fuck off, Niall,” Harry calls out. Louis pounds harder. _

_ “Not a chance. Nialler’s got a song and he won’t rest until he plays it for us all, so get your lazy arses out of bed and we’re all gonna have a listen, or else you’re both out of the band and we’ll carry on as a threesome.” _

_ There’s silence for a moment, and then Harry opens the door, his hair a mess and partially over his face, wearing a Ramones shirt that he 100% stole from Louis. “You should never say threesome about a band again, especially not ours,” he grumbles. _

_ Louis kisses Harry, because he looks absolutely adorable. “You look absolutely adorable,” he says. Harry blushes. “Liam?” _

_ “Harry’s my new best bandmate,” Liam says pointedly to Louis. _

_ “That’s rubbish, Niall is everyone’s best bandmate, that’s why we’re doing this,” Louis says. They tromp back over to Louis and Zayn’s room. Niall’s managed to coax Zayn into at least laying on his back so he can sort of see Niall in periphery. Louis takes a running jump at Zayn’s bed and smiles smugly at the “Ow, Louis, you arse!” _

_ “Harold,” he says, holding out a hand. “Join me in my palace of dreams?” _

_ “I would be honored,” Harry says, taking his hand and collapsing on top of Zayn’s legs. _

_ “I hate you all,” Zayn mumbles. _

_ “I haven’t done anything!” Liam says. _

_ “I don’t hate Liam, then. But the rest of you are the worst.” _

_ “Boys, boys, settle down,” Niall says. “It’s just a couple minutes and then we can all go to bed.” He hefts his guitar onto his knee. “Right, so don’t judge too harshly, because I’ve only just written this in about twenty minutes or something. But also, if it’s shit, I’d like to know.” _

_ “Play it, Niall,” Zayn says tiredly. Liam clambers tentatively onto the bed without crushing any of Zayn’s limbs and settles comfortably next to him. _

_ Niall starts to play a simple riff, and after a few bars, he starts to sing quietly, “Been a lot of places; I’ve been all around the world.” _

_ Louis can’t help but stare at Niall while he plays. He gets this look that’s somehow both focused and faraway, like he’s the only one in the entire world. His voice is gentle enough not to annoy the other residents of the hotel, but Louis wants to record this moment and listen to it on repeat forever. _

_ After a verse and chorus, Niall stops, looks up. “What do we think?” _

_ “Marry me, Niall,” Harry says lazily. _

_ “Hey!” Louis says, privately agreeing. _

_ “Write me a love song like that and maybe you’ll win me back,” Harry tells him. Then, “Niall. Christ. You should be the only person who ever writes for us.” _

_ “That’s a tearjerker for sure,” Liam says. “I can hear that in stadiums.” _

_ “Me too,” Zayn says. “That’s brilliant. It’s beautiful. And it’s honest, which we almost never are. I love it.” _

_ Niall ducks his head. “Ah, you guys.” _

_ “Can I please go to sleep now,” Zayn says desperately.  _

_ “He was only complimenting you to get you to leave!” Louis accuses. “Low blow, Zayner.” _

_ Niall laughs, eyes twinkling. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Good luck on the interviews tomorrow. Love you.” _

_ “‘Night, Niall,” they all chorus. He leaves, and Liam gets up and leaves with him, both of them chattering in low voices about the song, or something. Louis watches them go and already misses them. _

_ “He’s quite good,” Harry murmurs. Louis looks down at his boyfriend and nods. _

_ “Harry Edward Styles, if you don’t get off my bed right this second I will call security,” Zayn threatens. Harry giggles and slides off the bed, kissing Louis once more before scurrying out of the room. _

_ “I wish we’d done our first two albums like we’re doing this one,” Louis muses. He wonders if their fanbase would be different, if their  _ lives _ would be different, if they’d written their own honest lyrics from the get-go. None of these vague poppy love songs that fill the space on  _ Up All Night _ and  _ Take Me Home _. Pop music can still be brutally truthful. Niall’s proven that. _

_ “Louis,” Zayn says. “Get the hell off my bed.” _

_ “You’re no fun,” Louis complains, but he gets off. “Goodnight.” _

_ “Mmhm.” _

* * *

“So how is everyone?” Liam asks.

“Alright,” Louis jumps in. “Keeping busy, writing music, as I imagine we all are.”

“I’ve been writing loads,” Niall says. “It’s like, weird, isn’t it? Like, some days I just want to go back to bed and quit the job, and some days I’ve got so many ideas. I don’t mind being stuck at home, to be honest.”

“Yeah, you run every day now, don’t you,” Liam says conversationally. Louis doesn’t know anything about that. He follows Niall on Instagram but he doesn’t check Instagram all that often. A glance at Harry’s expression makes it evident he’s not the only one who’s out of the loop. Louis hasn’t checked, but he’s pretty sure Harry doesn’t follow Niall. He’s pretty sure Harry doesn’t follow any of them, but then again, Harry also doesn’t spend any time online anymore. Louis tries and fails not to take it personally.

“Nearly, yeah,” Niall says. “Today’s me cheat day, actually. I’m having a drink on the patio.” He pulls his phone away from his face and shows them the view from his house, which is lovely and blue-skied.

“Cheat day, sure,” Louis says. He finds it almost eerily easy to fall back into a rhythm with Niall. “Just today, though, obviously.”

“Shut up,” Niall says, laughing. “Smoke anything lately?”

“Fuck off,” Louis says.

“How about you, Harry? Smoked anything?”

Harry’s face changes into a weird, confused grin. “Ah, ehm. Not lately, no.”

“What?” Louis says. “You smoke now?”

“No,” Harry says uncomfortably. “Well. Not…not weed. I did, I had some mushrooms —”

“ _ What?” _

“ — while I was making Fine Line, with the team.”

Niall laughs. “Incredible. It’s incredible. Can you imagine if 16-year-old Harry could see you now? Incredible.”

“I read about that,” Liam says with an easy smile, because of course he still reads the news about the rest of the band. “But I wasn’t sure I should believe it until I watched the Zane Lowe. I can’t believe you said that.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry shrugs, “I meant it — I didn’t want to be the one who fucked up, in the band. So…”

“Now you’re free to take all the drugs you like,” Louis finishes. It’s unbelievably hypocritical of him, and not at all fair, because Harry is an  _ adult _ who can make his own decisions.   
Harry frowns. “Yeah, I am,” he says. “So are you, Louis. Isn’t that better?”

Louis bites his lip. “I suppose,” he begrudgingly allows.

“Well, that’s amazing, that is,” Niall says. “I’m proud of you, Hazza, you’ve done it safely and smartly. That’s all that matters, isn’t it.”

“Right on,” Liam says.

Safely and smartly, yeah. Louis remembers Harry’s whole “I won’t be the one who ruins this” guilt complex from the days in the band. He didn’t even want to drink in the U.S. until he was 21, although they talked him into jumping off that ledge a couple of times. Maybe he’d been right. Louis had been the one to ruin it specifically  _ because  _ he smoked. Louis had probably been partially responsible for running Zayn out of the band.

It’s been years since he’s even really thought about that. He doesn’t want to start now.

Fuck Zayn for having a kid. Fuck Harry for telling him. Fuck Liam for not telling him. Fuck Niall for...actually, nothing. Niall’s smashing it so far.

Now there’s an awkward silence on the call, and Niall keeps glancing behind him like he might just head inside and start playing guitar, and Louis can’t help himself. 

“So Zayn’s having a kid,” he blurts out.

All of them stare at him.

* * *

_ “Louis, this is so illegal,” Harry hisses. _

_ “Is not! I’ve been 21 for months,” Louis says.  _

_ “It’s illegal for  _ me _ ,” Harry says. He crosses his arms when Louis holds out a beer to him. _

_ “Go on, Harry. Don’t be boring. You drink all the time. Just have one.” _

_ Harry remains stoic. “American beer is rubbish,” he tries. _

_ “Exactly, which is why I need your help getting rid of this horrid excuse for a pint,” Louis says. He pushes the beer further into Harry’s face. Harry sighs and he unfolds his arms. _

_ “Fine. Just this one,” Harry says, taking the drink. Louis leans in and kisses him. _

_ “Love you,” he says. _

_ “Yeah, yeah.” They both crack the tops and take sips at the same time. Harry’s right; it tastes shit. They both grimace. _

_ “I hate this stuff,” Harry says. _

_ Louis shrugs. “Gets the job done, doesn’t it?” _

_ “Depends what job you mean.” _

_ “Getting hammered,” Louis says. _

_ “Oh. Yeah, then.” _

_ Louis grins. The night air is just a touch chilly, but he’s wearing Harry’s hoodie and he feels warm and comfortable and safe like he hasn’t in a long time. _

_ They’ve been touring for weeks. They’re both — they’re all exhausted, all the time. Louis keeps watching Zayn get shaken awake after only ten minutes of sleep to record a part of  _ Midnight Memories _ , and every time he has to physically restrain himself from shouting, “Let him sleep! Can’t you see he’s drained?” Zayn pretends he’s a good sport about it, but Louis can tell it’s an act. There are a lot of brilliant parts of this job. Exhaustion is just an occupational hazard. _

_ Footsteps crunch over the dead leaves in the grass, and Harry’s eyes widen in the dark. He passes the beer to Louis and whirls around to see Calum and Michael. _

_ “Oh,” Harry says, relieved, and takes his beer back. “Hey! Mikey, Calum!” _

_ The boys turn in unison, cut off mid-laugh. When they spot Harry and Louis, they make their way over. “Hey, we thought that might’ve been you guys,” Michael says. _

_ “Sit down, have a beer,” Louis says. “On me.” _

_ “Gee, thanks, Mister,” Calum says, although he doesn’t protest when Louis hands him an unopened can. _

_ “Isn’t this technically illegal?” Michael says. He doesn’t seem to have any qualms about it, though, and cracks the top of his drink. _

_ “That’s what I said,” Harry says. _

_ “Oh yeah, you’re 21,” Calum says to Louis. “An old man.” _

_ “A granddad,” Michael says. _

_ “Respect your elders, boys,” Louis says. “Or I’ll tell the authorities about your drinking habits.” _

_ They both chuckle. Harry puts his own drink in the grass. “I can’t drink any more of this. I miss the U.K.,” he says wistfully. “Proper pints.” _

_ “I dunno,” Calum says, leaning heavily into Michael. “This isn’t too bad. America! Home of the free!” Louis keeps forgetting how much more exciting this is for 5 Seconds of Summer than it is for One Direction. _

_ “This is garbage,” Michael says. He doesn’t even seem to register what Calum is doing, just tilts his head a bit to lean it against Calum’s. “The beer, I mean. The tour is brilliant.” _

_ “Best part of the job,” Harry agrees. He watches the two boys drink in silence for another moment, then says, “Aren’t you worried you’ll get in trouble? Like, the band?” _

_ “What, for drinking?” Michael laughs. “Have you met us?” _

_ Louis hadn’t really thought of it until now, but he wonders if 5SOS feels the same pressure to maintain a squeaky-clean image that One Direction does. They certainly don’t seem to. They do what they like, wear what they want, and write songs that are so honest and aggressive and rock & roll that Louis almost wants to run onstage during the 5SOS set, grab a mic, and start singing just for the thrill. People compare 5 Seconds of Summer to blink-182, Green Day, All Time Low. Pop punk bands who give no fucks. Not the virtuous One Direction. _

_ “I wouldn’t want to be in a band who’d hate me for fucking up,” Calum remarks. He absentmindedly puts his free hand in Michael’s lap, and Michael laces their fingers together. “You know? Like, I’m a teenage guy. I’m gonna fuck up. Mikey’s gonna fuck up a LOT.” (“Hey,” Michael protests.) “Just ‘cause I’m in a band, doesn’t mean I’m suddenly not gonna fuck up.” He pauses. “I’d rather create an image of a group of guys who mature and grow than a group of guys who are perfect from the outset.” _

_ Michael nods as best he can with Calum’s head directly beneath his chin. “He’s used up all his brain cells with that comment,” he adds. “Don’t expect him to say anything else clever for the next 48 hours.” _

_ “Fuck you,” Calum says. “See if I suck your dick tonight.” _

_ “You already  _ have _ sucked my dick tonight.” _

_ “See if I do it again.” _

_ Louis chuckles at them and then looks over at Harry. He smiles, and Harry smiles back, a little more uncertain than a few minutes before. Louis tries to pretend that Calum can’t be smart enough to say something so intelligent about life in a band, but his words don’t leave Louis’s brain for a long time afterwards. _

* * *

“Yeah, mate,” Niall says. “That’s three of you, now. We’ve been outnumbered, Harry!”

Harry laughs uneasily. “Yeah.”

“I’d ring him if I could, but I don’t have his number,” Niall says, either oblivious to Louis’s internal distress or purposefully ignoring it. Louis’s not sure which is worse. “I try to keep in touch but the man’s like a ghost.”

“Liam has it,” Louis says. “He’ll give it to you.”

“That’s okay,” Niall says. “I’ll DM him or somethin’. If he wanted me to have his number, I’d have it.”

Louis wonders how Niall can be so okay with everything all the time. He feels like his brain’s going to melt.

“Anyway,” Liam says. “Reunion plans, eh, boys?”

“We can’t do something now,” Harry says. “Like, in quarantine. We’re all in different places.”

“We could do a live stream type thing, like, I saw the boys of 5SOS did one of them,” Liam says.

“Bit underwhelming, though, innit?” Harry says, wrinkling his nose. “I think we’d get murdered.”

“And we’ve got to throw them off the scent,” Louis adds, “because  _ someone _ couldn’t keep his bloody mouth shut.”

“I’m sorry!” Liam says for the millionth time.

Louis can’t stand looking at the screen with only four windows. They’ve been out of the band almost as long as they were in it, now, and when Louis looks back on it, Zayn is always there. Even when he wasn’t, he was. 

Fuck. Zayn was one of his best friends. Zayn should be here. Zayn should be on this call.

“You know what, lads,” he says, “I’ve gotta go, I’ve got — someone’s calling me.” He’s already used that line today on Harry, and anyway he’s delivered the lie terribly, but none of them give him shit, and for that he’s grateful. “Let me know if you’re still on in a bit, I can jump back in.”

“Good luck,” Liam says, even though he has no reason to say it. Louis glances at his face. He knows. Obviously he knows.

“Later,” he says, and hangs up.

Then, before he can lose his nerve, he opens his chat with Liam, clicks on the contact, and hits  _ call _ .

* * *

_ "Zayn?" _

_ "Yeah, 's me, what do you need." _

_ "Sorry, I've woken you," Louis says immediately, feeling like his chest is going to burst. The tears are drying on his face, but there's an imminent threat for them to be replaced. _

_ "No, no," Zayn says, as if he can tell Louis's been crying. "I was already up. What's going on, babe?" _

_ That's an obvious lie, but Louis can't find it in himself to care. His voice is so gentle, so sweet and sincere even through the phone. Louis breaks down crying again. _

_ "Hey, hey, none of that," Zayn says, in the tone of voice you'd normally take with a horse or an upset child. "Louis, love, tell me what's happened." _

_ "I miss you," Louis chokes out. "I miss you lot. I miss all of you. I should be happy to be home, and I am, but I miss seeing you all. I miss Niall laughing at my shit jokes. I miss Liam telling me to hurry up and get dressed. I miss Harry, Zayn. Fuck, I miss Harry. I miss you. This is shit. I'm always missing someone. I just want everyone to come here and live with me in Doncaster." _

_ "Okay, deep breath," Zayn says softly. "I miss you too, Lou. Breathe. Go on. I'm not going anywhere." _

_ Louis inhales like his life depends on it. He doesn't bother wiping away his tears. They'll be replaced soon enough anyway.  _

_ "Break's only another three days," Zayn says once Louis's not hyperventilating into his phone anymore. "Then we'll all see each other again. I thought you'd be tired of us by now." _

_ "I am. I thought I was," Louis says desperately. "I wasn't tired of you. I was just tired. I just want to see you. We don't even have to tour, don't have to sing. Let's just rent a cottage on an island in Greece where nobody will find it and we can just have a few laughs, a few drinks, live our day-to-day." _

_ "That sounds brilliant," Zayn says. "Let's do it." _

_ For one insane moment, Louis thinks they really could. They could just up and leave. Who could stop them? One Direction might just be a name, but at the minute, it's one of the most powerful names in the world. If they put their minds to it, the five of them could vanish onto an island in Greece, and nobody could have a say in it. _

_ But then reality crashes back in, and Louis remembers that this is his job, and there are more people counting on him than he even thought existed. There are people who would miss Louis. There are people who would hate him. He's tempted to be selfish, to flip them all the bird and just go anyway, but even as he thinks it he knows he never could, never would. _

_ "We can't," he murmurs, helplessness crashing over him like a tidal wave. _

_ "We can't," Zayn agrees sadly. He sighs, like he'd also been seriously contemplating it. "It would be nice to disappear for a bit, though." _

_ "But impossible." _

_ "Yeah. I'd miss Lottie too much." _

_ "You're an arse." _

_ "You don't think that." _

_ Louis exhales. He realizes he's stopped crying, and somehow he doesn't think he'll start up again. Zayn's voice puts him at peace like almost no other. "You're right, I don't. Love you." _

_ "Yeah. I know you do." _

_ "Say it back, you prick." _

_ Zayn laughs quietly. "Love you too. Want me to stay on?" _

_ "...Yeah. If you don't mind." _

_ "Anything for you, Lou." _

_ "Sing me to sleep?" Louis asks hopefully. _

_ Zayn does. Louis falls asleep with a quietude in his heart he forgot it was possible to achieve. _

* * *

There's no One Direction without Zayn. There never has been. They tried it; they pretended, for a few months; they even made a record without him, as if there was something to prove, but Louis realizes now what he must have always known. Zayn was —  _ is  _ as integral to One Direction as the rest of them. 

Maybe it's why Louis didn't push back harder against taking a break. He'd only just found his footing in the rhythm of the group when Zayn left, and he'd been so pissed off that he'd carried on out of spite, but when Harry had suggested they take a break — after saying the exact same words to Louis the night prior — Louis could have fought harder, could have fought  _ angrier, _ and hadn't. 

There's no One Direction without Zayn. And there sure as hell won't be any One Direction reunion without him. 

"Hello?"

Louis's breath catches in his throat. Belatedly, he realizes how stupendously foolish this was, but now he's already here and it's too late to back down.

"Zayn," he says.

"Louis?"

"Yeah. Uh, yeah, it's me." Louis can't remember if Zayn's voice has changed. Has it always been this low? This scratchy? 

"How did you get this number?"

"Liam gave it to me. I didn't ask." Louis winces. "Um, I just, I wanted to say…I heard the news. So congratulations."

There's a silence on the other end. Every second that passes feels like a lifetime. 

"Liam shouldn't just be giving out my number," Zayn finally says. That one stings. Like Louis is just some random guy, some ordinary person who came across Zayn's number by chance. Like they've never met.

"Zayn," Louis says. "Fucking hell. I'm sorry. I know — I know I'm five years too late. Hell, I'm probably much later than that, but if it's worth anything now, anything at all…I'm sorry. Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart."

That's about as good as Louis can do, he thinks.

Zayn is quiet for a long time again. "Thanks," he finally says. "Thank you. And, uh, I'm sorry too. For whatever that's worth."

Louis could cry. In fact, Louis might cry. No. He can't cry. They've only just made up, and he doesn't want to scare Zayn off. Zayn didn't used to mind when Louis would cry, but Louis is pretty sure that Zayn doesn't exist anymore, never will again.

"Okay," he says instead. "Congratulations. I — I hear it's a girl. That's brilliant, Zayn."

"Yeah," Zayn says cautiously, but Louis is immeasurably relieved to learn that he can still detect the traces of excitement in the change in Zayn's voice. "About four months along. It's exciting. I'm excited. And nervous."

"That's about par for the course, then, mate," Louis says. "Don't worry about it. It's about 90 percent instinct. And you've got great parental instincts, as we all know."

"Shut up," Zayn grumbles, but he's laughing, a little.

"I mean it," Louis says. He pauses. "I've missed you."

"No you haven't."

"Yes I have."

"Don't pretend, Louis. I appreciate that you've called now, but you don't have to act like you've wanted to make up this whole time."

"I haven't," Louis says firmly. "I'm not saying that. I'm just saying I've missed you. Hearing your voice. Even the last few months in the band, I missed you."

"That's bullshit," Zayn says. "The shit we said —"

"Did you miss me?" He shouldn't ask, really shouldn't. It's dangerous territory.

Zayn allows for one of the long, pregnant pauses that he's always been fond of overusing. "Yeah," he admits.

"Then why don't you believe that I did too?"

"Okay, I believe you." Zayn sighs. "It's really good to hear from you, Louis. Was starting to wonder if I ever would again."

"We both needed to grow up a little bit," Louis says. "And I suppose I needed Liam to push me."

"Oh, don't worry," Zayn says. "He was pushing me, too. I just thought you wouldn't...want to hear from me."

Louis swallows. "Well, ah. That's the thing, sort of." Fuck. Going into this, it seemed like such an obvious answer. But now he knows with perfect clarity that there is no way he can convince Zayn to be a part of the reunion.

"What's the thing," Zayn says suspiciously. 

"23 July is coming up," Louis answers. "Ten years of One Direction." Zayn whistles. "And, uh, me and the boys want to do something for it. A reunion sort of thing. After quarantine ends, obviously." He takes a deep breath. "We were on the call and it hit me that I couldn't do a One Direction reunion without you. There is no One Direction without you."

"There's an entire One Direction album without me," Zayn says. "You did alright. Don't need me."

"Not only do we need you," Louis says, "I want you there. Please. If even I can admit I missed you, imagine how the other boys feel. When's the last time you spoke to Harry, huh? Nialler?"

Silence. Then, "Louis…it's not just about me and you and what we want."

And God, Louis  _ knows _ that, but he's sick of it. "Shouldn't it be, though?" he argues. "Shouldn't it just be us and what we decide? Fuck everyone else. Fuck what the press thinks, and what the fans think.  _ Fuck _ Simon. Fuck revenue. Just tell me straight-up, Zayn. You're an adult. You're going to be a dad. If you want to do it, you should just do it." He feels his voice start to crack and wills it to hold.

"Move to an island in Greece," Zayn says, voice impossibly soft. "Disappear."

He remembers. "Exactly," Louis says. "Zayn, I don't mean to boast, but we are some of the most successful people in music. We can afford to take a few hits. We can afford to do  _ one thing  _ just because we want to. I think we've bloody well earned it."

"Louis —"

"I'm not going to force you, mate. I just want to know if you won't do it because you don't want to or because you don't think you can. Just tell me the truth. Bar everything else. Do you want to be a part of the reunion?"

Zayn sighs. "I don't know," he says. "No. Not for the public. But I do want to see you, when this is all over. Is that possible? Just the five of us, like old times?"

Louis's face hurts with the grin that splits it in half. "Of course it's possible. We're Louis fucking Tomlinson and Zayn fucking Malik."

"You know," Zayn says carefully, "it's— it's not impossible, the cottage in Greece."

"Come again?"

"After this ends," Zayn repeats. "We could just go, like. The five of us, maybe some security. Pick a Greek island and vanish, like you said."

"I can't believe you remember that," Louis says. His heart feels both heavy and light.

"It's kind of my endgame," Zayn admits. "Like, for retirement, if that exists for me. Always fancied the idea after you said it, and it stuck in my head."

"Let's do it," Louis says immediately. "I'll tell the boys, I'm sure they'll be chuffed. Plus we've all just had an album release and tour's been put off for everyone, so it's a hard-earned break."

Zayn sighs. "No, we can't just go," he says, and he sounds weary. "I've got a kid coming. I — I keep forgetting. And you've actually proper got a kid."

Louis sighs. "Can never just pick up and go, can we?"

"I reckon not," Zayn says. "Even pop stars can't always do what they want, when they want to."

“What’s even the point,” Louis says. “Might ‘swell quit.” Zayn laughs. Louis has missed hearing Zayn’s laugh.

“Well, look,” Zayn says. “I’m a bit — I’m sort of busy at the moment, but I could ring tomorrow or something.”

“Yeah, alright,” Louis says. “Sure.” He doesn’t want to ask, but does anyway, because he’s a fucking moron who has absolutely zero impulse control: “Hey, random question, did you…have you heard  _ Walls _ ? Alright if not, just wondered.”

“Not yet,” Zayn says, “but I imagine you’ve not heard mine either. I’ll listen when I hang up.” Louis listened to  _ Icarus Falls _ the same amount of times as he listened to  _ Fine Line, _ and it hurt for similar reasons, but that was already two years ago, so he takes it. “Fair enough,” he says. “I’ll listen to yours. We’ll trade notes.”

“I think Louis should sing this bit in falsetto,” Zayn says, which is a quote direct from recording _Midnight Memories_. Louis can’t believe Zayn can even bring that line out.

“Zayn, try it a little straighter,” he shoots back. “Not so R&B, this isn’t Boyz II Men.”

Zayn snorts.

“I can see why you left,” Louis says as an afterthought.

“It wasn’t that,” Zayn says, although it was. “Okay, it was, a bit, but not  _ only _ that. Look, I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m happy to hear your voice.”

People keep saying that to him. Louis wonders where his life went wrong that all the people he loves have forgotten the way his voice sounds.

“Yeah, same to you,” Louis says. “Right, well, I left the group video chat to call, so I think I better get back to that.” 

“Have fun,” Zayn says. “Tell the boys I say hi, yeah?”

“Will do. Oh, and Niall says congrats.”

“Tell him congrats too,” Zayn says. Louis smiles.

“Alright. Later, Zayn.”

“Bye.”

Louis hangs up, and has an aching sense of deja vu when he realizes he’s once again missing Zayn having just hung up with him. Instead of ignoring it like he’s done for years, he lets himself feel it. It hurts, but also heals, and Louis thinks that’s probably what missing someone you love should feel like.

* * *

_ “We’re going to be friends forever,” Louis announces, and plops down on the floor in Liam’s lap. _

_ Liam makes a noise of protest and shoves at Louis’s back. “Ow!” _

_ “Who d’you mean?” Niall asks, through a mouthful of Maltesers. Louis will have to steal some from him.  _

_ They’ve been at Harry’s step-dad’s bungalow for a couple of days already, and Louis and Liam have butted heads more times than Louis can count, but the fact that Liam has surrendered his effort to get Louis off his lap speaks volumes about the way their relationship has progressed. Louis likes to think he has a sense for these things. “The five of us,” he clarifies, gesturing around the room. “Friends forever. Best mates.” _

_ “Not me,” Zayn says, from Harry’s bed. Louis’s not sure how Zayn ended up in Harry’s bed and the rest of them on the floor. “I’m cutting loose as soon as I can. See how well you lot do without me.” _

_ “You’ll be riding our coattails to fame and fortune, Zayner,” Louis says contemptuously. He jumps out of Liam’s lap and clambers into Harry’s bed, deliberately shoving Zayn over and ignoring the varied grumbling sounds coming from Zayn. “I mean it, by the way. Our band’s going to be the biggest band in the history of ever once we win X-Factor, and we’re going to be the best of friends until we die. We’ll have to work out a system for weddings so everyone gets a chance to be best man.” _

_ “I’ll be Liam’s,” Harry says immediately, and when Louis sends him a questioning look, Harry explains, “Most likely to be married, I reckon. Safest bet.” _

_ “That’s true,” Louis says. “Quick thinking, Hazza. Your wit, Liam’s smarts, Niall’s remarkable ability to locate snacks, Zayn’s brooding artist skills, and my ravishing good looks and overall charm? Who could refuse the likes of us?” _

_ “I could,” Zayn says grumpily from where he’s still partially underneath Louis. “Easily.” _

_ “Don’t be like that,” Louis says, and pats Zayn’s hair. This serves only to offend Zayn more, and Louis receives a pinch on his arse for his troubles. “Zayn! At least buy me dinner first.” _

_ “I’ll buy your mum dinner,” Zayn grouses, nonsensically. _

_ “This is a bit random, Louis,” Liam says, although he should know better than to expect anything more from Louis. “What brought this on?” _

_ “Oh, just thinking,” Louis says, with an airy handwave. “Just, feels a bit like destiny, doesn’t it?” He’s not sure how else to explain it. Everything about being put together in a band feels like fate, not least from meeting Harry in the loo. Louis does a good job making sure he’s never taken seriously — the day he is is the day he truly has given up the fight — but he sincerely believes that there’s something magical in the five of them, something that has never really happened and never will again, and he feels lucky to be a part of it, to sit in this room with these four boys who are all so different and yet fit so well. _

_ “Yeah,” Harry says. His voice sounds a bit wondrous. “I mean, you’re being a bit vague, right, but I get it.” _

_ “Harry gets it,” Louis says. _

_ “I never said I didn’t get it,” Liam says defensively. “Only wondered where it was coming from. I do get it, actually.” _

_ “Me too,” Niall pipes up, still eating Maltesers. If Louis weren’t so comfortable on top of Zayn, he’d request they be shared with him. _

_ Speaking of Zayn. “You, Zayno?” Louis asks, twisting around to face him. “You’ve got the artist’s mind. Tell us what you’re thinking. Share some wisdom with the lads.” _

_ “I don’t care if we’re friends forever,” Zayn says. “Just glad we’re friends now, aren’t I?” _

_ “Bloody right you are,” Louis says, beaming triumphantly like Zayn’s just proved him right in a massive row, instead of merely admitted some fraction of affection for the other four boys in this band — if it’s even fair to call it a band yet — with him. _

* * *

The group call has ended by the time Louis goes to return to it. He rings Liam instead, out of habit. He’s never felt more like he did in the band than right now. A part of him feels like if he closes his eyes, he’ll be right back in any one of the hotel rooms they stayed at, and Niall will burst in with the declaration that he’s ordered pizza and Harry will laugh and bury his head in Louis’s neck and Zayn and Liam will follow helplessly behind, explaining that they’d confiscated Niall’s phone but not before he’d managed to order the pizza, despite having been repeatedly told not to order delivery themselves, and Louis will grin because Niall is sometimes his favorite for exactly that reason, and —

“Hey, Louis,” Liam says as he answers, cutting off that spiral. Louis blinks. He’s had his eyes opened but had managed to get lost in the memory anyway.

“How did the rest of the call go?” Louis asks.

“It was good, it was good,” Liam says. “Didn’t stick around much after you left, really. Niall kept looking like he was itching to go play something. He’s useless around instruments, isn’t he, can’t keep a conversation to save his life.”

“Wouldn’t be Niall if he could,” Louis agrees. He rubs the back of his neck. “I, uh, I called Zayn.”

Liam hums. He doesn’t say  _ I figured, _ but Louis’s pretty sure he’s thinking it. “And?”

“And…we chatted,” Louis says. “I don’t know, like, it’s — it felt too easy. Like, shouldn’t we be more cross? We haven’t talked in…fuck, I don’t even know how long. Since he left the band.”

“Yeah, well, exactly,” Liam says. “You’ve both had your time to grow up, mature, take a deep breath. Step back. Are you all fixed up, now, then?”

“I don’t know,” Louis says again. “I think so. I — I congratulated him on the kid.”

“I’m sure he appreciated it,” Liam says. “I’m proud of you, Louis.”

“You don’t have to be proud, you’re not my dad,” Louis says, although he glows, a little bit. He’s never been entirely able to shake the feeling that Liam is taking care of him, which in the band felt funny given Louis had been the oldest, but Liam has always had the nurturing instinct that Louis lacked, and even all these years later Louis wavers under it.

“Fine,” Liam says. “I take it back, then. But I’m glad you two are sorted. It felt wrong, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Louis says. Liam’s managed to pin it down. “It did. Remember when I said we’d be friends forever?”

“Well, to be fair, we’ve done alright,” Liam says. “I mean, it’s been ten years and here we still are.”

Louis doesn’t say  _ I’ve just spoken to Zayn for the first time in five years.  _ He doesn’t say  _ I’m afraid to ring Harry.  _ He doesn’t say  _ Niall doesn’t even have Zayn’s number. _ He doesn’t say  _ none of us can ever reach Harry because he’s gone like triple-multi-platinum or whatever and he’s starting to go a bit Elton John. _ He doesn’t say  _ the joke about going in different directions has felt a bit too real, lately.  _

“Here we still are, indeed,” is what he does say. “We’ll always be alright, won’t we, Payno?”

“Not going anywhere,” Liam confirms. “It’s you and me, brother.”

Louis thinks about how far they’ve come since their first days.  _ If only X-Factor Louis and Liam could see us now, _ he muses. Maybe it’s time he and Harry talk, too. The two of them sure have their share of shit to sort through.

But it’s a beautiful day, and these are problems that can wait. “We’ll call again soon,” Louis promises. “I’ll read the chat and everything.”

“I know you will,” Liam says. “Or I’ll egg  _ your  _ house.”

Louis grins.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it haven't written 1d fic since, uhhh, my super bad wattpad stuff back in 2014 that will never see the light so! hope i didn't fuck up too bad! let me know what you thought! leave a comment! or whatever :) okay im on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) come say hey if you want


End file.
